


Still here

by legolastariel



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: But happy ending this time!, Daryl saves the day ... and Rick ... and the whole damn show :-), Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fix-it story once again, Guilt, How Rick's "death" scene should have been, Humor, Love Confessions, M/M, Richonne never existed (my favorite tag), Rickyl, Separation Anxiety
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-17
Updated: 2018-11-17
Packaged: 2019-08-23 16:28:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,945
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16622381
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/legolastariel/pseuds/legolastariel
Summary: This is an alternate version of Rick's "death" scene at the bridge in 9x05.I couldn't let it stay like this, couldn't accept that Rick is just gone and Daryl will be devastated for the rest of his days. No go. So this is how I wish it had gone down.





	Still here

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to my wonderful beta staceykc for helping me with this piece once again.  
> Hugs!

** Still here **

 

More forcefully than necessary, Daryl yanked the next bolt out of the quiver and sent it on its way only seconds after the previous one. As usual it hit its target – the skull of yet another walker – right on the mark, only inches away from where Rick was standing.   
The archer’s heart was beating so hard against the inside of his ribs that he feared it might break out of his ribcage any second now. Adrenaline was pumping through his veins almost painfully and he tried to suppress the rising panic.   
This wasn’t the first time his bolts had saved Rick in the very last second, but the leader just standing there, rooted to his spot, without attempting to run or fight back - that was new.   
It wasn’t hard to tell what Rick was trying to do. He was offering the ultimate sacrifice – the bridge he had so tirelessly fought for along with his life. Against all odds the wooden construction held and let him run out of choices. There was only one way.

         _It’s the only way, man!_

That’s what Daryl had been telling his friend earlier when he had tried to convince him that luring the walkers onto the bridge and letting it collapse was the best, the _only_ solution.

         “Of all the things I told ya, man”, Daryl muttered under his breath, while he cocked the crossbow once again, “ _this_ hadda be the only thing ya really heard?” 

He released the bolt while his eyes desperately communicated with Rick’s over the distance. He could have yelled, he could have screamed at the top of his lungs, but hundreds of walkers and the raging water below would cover his voice and swallow the words before they reached Rick.

         _“Hear me!”_ Daryl’s panicking soul reached out to his man. _“I was_ wrong _! There_ is _another way! There’s gotta be. Don’t do this, Rick. Don’t do this,_ please! _Ya can’t leave me.”_

Daryl saw the reaction in Rick’s eyes, saw the sadness and regret and the silent plea for forgiveness – and for understanding that he had to do what he was about to do. He saw the gratefulness for the all the times he had stood by Rick just as loyally as right now, the many times he had saved his partner's life with those miraculous bolts out of the blue, for all the good times they had had together and the bad ones, too, for there was no light without darkness.   
For a while, during the war, they had both forgotten how to communicate – through these silent looks or with words alike. They had forgotten how to talk and how to listen, had forgotten just how much they meant to each other, how close they had been for such a long time, that they _were_ on the same side, always. Falling into that pit had been the best thing that could have happened to them and secretly Daryl had cursed those damn walkers for disturbing that intimate togetherness they had finally shared again.  
It had been so long since he and Rick had touched, hugged, kissed, made love. They had forgotten about all that, too. A few precious hours ago they had found their way back to each other and only then the war had finally come to an end.  
Maybe they still didn’t agree entirely on the Savior and the Negan matter, but their hearts were beating as one again, their souls were communicating and they both remembered that the bond between them wasn’t just built upon a common fate and the fight for survival, but love. Deep and pure and honest.   
It couldn’t end like this. Not now, not ever. Not when there were so many more things left unsettled and words unsaid. 

Daryl sent the next bolt on its way and wiped over his eyes quickly when tears pooled in them suddenly and blurred his view. 

Just a few more minutes, maybe seconds – that’s what it would have taken down in that pit. And then maybe, just maybe he might have found his courage to finally say the words. _The_ words. Those precious three words that people told each other in movies and songs and those sappy romance novels, yet a Dixon saying them out loud was a thing unheard of. He had tried, many times, but each time it had felt as though there’d been razor blades in his throat and those scars on his back had started to itch. It was ironic and a curse alike that of all the people long gone, Will Dixon seemed to be the only one who was still very much alive.   
Daryl had always figured that it made no difference, that Rick _knew_. That he had shown him in countless ways and told him with silent looks many times how much he loved him. And still – it wasn’t the same as actually saying it and now he might never get a second chance. 

It felt as though he’d been standing here for hours, shooting hundreds of bolts up to the bridge to protect his partner, but in fact only a minute had passed, maybe two. After all these years, so little time decided their mutual fate.

Daryl saw the look in Rick’s eyes change to determination. With all the strength he could still muster, the leader turned away and focused on the bridge and the walkers in front of him. It had to be done _now._ Any second he waited more blood was oozing out of his wound, and his strength along with it. He couldn’t faint, couldn’t die before his mission was completed.   
His family, all the people he held dear were here. And save for Daryl they were all headed towards the street, the herd, the bridge – he couldn’t let them reach street level. He had to do what needed to be done as long as they were still safely out of harm’s way.

Turning his head and looking away from Daryl was almost impossible.   
He had made his peace with the past, was at ease and not afraid anymore. He didn’t welcome death, but he didn’t shy away from it any longer, either.   
Rick knew that his family would survive, that they could handle things with or without him, that Judith would be taken care of and that, one way or the other, they would remember his dream, his vision, his plans for a peaceful future. Unlike what Daryl had said to him, he did have faith in them.   
The world would go on turning without Rick Grimes, but he would have loved to go looking into Daryl’s eyes. 

There’d been so much anger between them lately, rage that almost felt like hate, clashing opinions, struggling male egos, misunderstanding, the unwillingness or inability to find compromises. The pit had changed all that.   
One last smile, one last hug, one last kiss – it actually hurt to know that they would never share that again, missed their last chance on a proper goodbye. At least Daryl was here with him now and Rick got to see him one last time. He would be the last living soul Rick saw before he died, but the desperate, panicky look in those ocean blue eyes haunted him as he was concentrating on the task ahead. 

         _“Do you have any idea what you’re doing to him?”_ his conscience warned him.   
_“Don’t you realize what you’re taking from him? Can’t you remember how losing Merle, Beth, Denise and Glenn has not made him stronger, unlike what Sasha tried to make you believe, but killed a little part of his soul each time? Having to watch you die right in front of his eyes, while he is totally helpless and unable to save you, is going to destroy him for good. That would be on you, Rick Grimes.”_  
  
          “There is no other way”, Rick muttered just as helpless. “I found them. And now I gotta save them.”

 

From his spot down on the river bank Daryl saw Rick’s hand tighten around the butt of his Colt Python and slowly raise his arm. Fear choked the archer and breathing was difficult all of a sudden.  
He knew. Unlike the others, who still thought Rick was just trying to lure the herd onto the bridge, hoping for it to collapse, Daryl knew what was _on_ that bridge.  
Just the other day he had given Jed a piece of his mind – and a punch on the nose – for stacking several crates of dynamite right in the middle of the bridge. What kind of idiot would do such a thing? What the hell were those explosives doing up on that bridge in the middle of a construction site?  
At first Daryl had given Jed the benefit of a doubt and had assumed that he was just plain stupid. Only when the Savior had grinned and, with a nod in Daryl’s direction, had muttered to one of the other assholes _“I wouldn’t smoke around those crates if I were him”_ , it had dawned on Daryl that there was clearly malice and the will to sabotage involved.  
The punch on the nose was a light sentence. Jed was another Jared, another Justin –  what was it with those J names? – and in the first impulse Daryl would have loved to just throw him off that bridge. But he didn’t. Somewhere deep inside of him he had heard Rick’s voice, tirelessly repeating over and over that each life was important now.

          _“Your life first of all!”_ Daryl’s soul reached out to his man again.

The thoughts in Daryl’s panicky mind were tumbling over each other. He had to stop Rick, had to save him, had to do something, _anything_. But what? How?

He swallowed against the raspy sensation in his throat and raised his crossbow once again.

         _“Rick!!!”_

 

Aiming at the explosives, Rick pulled in a deep breath and then held it, realizing with painful clarity that this might have been his last.

 

Maggie, Carol and Michonne had taken the lead as the group ran through the woods and along the river bank, fiercely trying to get up to street level as fast as only possible to turn that herd around. They had to stop it, had to find a way to make those walkers change their direction before they reached Rick, before Daryl ran out of bolts, before the bridge would collapse after all. None of these scenarios was an option – it just couldn’t happen. They wouldn’t lose Rick, and they wouldn’t lose the bridge, his bridge, either.  
Just when Michonne and Maggie started crawling up the steep slope side by side, a pained scream reached their ears and made them freeze.

Oh, God, had those walkers caught up to Rick? Had he been bitten?

         “Rick!”

Michonne didn’t realize that she’d been screaming, until Daryl’s yell from the distance answered her:

         “Get ’em damn walkers away from the bridge already! I’m runnin’ outta bolts!” 

Reaching street level, Michonne and Maggie tried to get a glimpse of Rick through the dozens of walkers crowding the bridge and saw the leader kneel in the middle of the road. Another bolt just whizzed by him and hit the next walker who tried to attack him, while Rick just sat there, dazed and barely holding on to consciousness. Blood kept oozing out of the wound in his side and had soaked his shirt entirely by now, but the leader didn’t pay the least attention to that.   
With wide, unbelieving eyes and an almost fascinated air on his face he stared at his hand  – and at the bolt that had run it through and was still sticking in it.  

Rick had dropped the gun and didn’t even attempt to reach for it anymore. The fight was over. He had no strength left to get back up or crawl away, to defend himself or form a single coherent thought. His head felt heavy, as did his entire body as though his limbs were made of lead. There was no pain anymore, he was just cold and so incredibly tired. The world started spinning around him as he watched the wall of walkers moving in on him. He tried to turn his head to look at Daryl, but even that little movement seemed to be too much to accomplish. Sleep. All he wanted to do was sleep, without anyone telling him that he needed to wake up again. He couldn’t. Too much. But … the bridge, his family, the explosives … 

         _“Have to save them …”_

That was his last coherent thought. A heartbeat before he passed out, he heard an explosion, wondered if something or someone had set the explosives off after all, waited for the flames and heat to engulf him, but nothing happened.   
Then the world around him went black as merciful oblivion embraced him. 

 

*****

 

When Rick came back around, he looked straight into his favorite pair of ocean blue eyes and the face he loved most in this world. Daryl hovered over him and watched him closely, his anxiety palpable although he tried to hide it.   
The lines of worry on Daryl’s face smoothed when the ghost of a smile tugged on the corners of Rick’s mouth and the sky-blue eyes looked back at him clear and focused.

         “Hey there, welcome back.”

         “I’m still here”, Rick muttered, surprise clearly peppering his inflection.

         “Yeah, ya are. No thanks to that stunt ya was tryin’ ta pull up there, man.”

Daryl had hoped his voice would sound chiding, but it was choked with emotions and he swallowed hard against a lump in his throat. It had been a pretty close call. Way too close. And now that the adrenaline level was subsiding, he was a victim of his own emotions.   
Merle would have called him a pussy, his dad would have hit him for _being_ a pussy, Rick however noticed his partner’s distress and silently placed his hand on top of Daryl’s.   
Rick may have been blind and deaf to his partner’s thoughts and emotions lately, but he knew him better than anyone else. And he was painfully aware of what his death would have done to his man. He hadn’t dared to think further, hadn’t been _able_ to think beyond his own death, up there at the bridge while his blood and his life was oozing out of him. But looking into Daryl’s eyes now told him all he had to know – he would have destroyed more than just a bridge today.

         “I’m sorry”, Rick started, the excuse sounding lame even to his own ears. “I had to … I was trying …”

The next second his confused thoughts tumbled over each other even more, when Daryl placed his hands to either side of his face and leant in, pressing his lips hard to Rick’s.   
He was kissing him almost desperately, claiming his mouth as though there was no tomorrow, and if today had shown them anything it was the fact that life could be over faster than they thought. Every second could be the last moment they had alive with each other and Daryl had no intention to waste the opportunity.   
He had to feel Rick, had to taste him, had to make sure he was really still here. He hadn’t lost him today and if Fate wasn’t a complete bitch, they might still have a night together and a new sunrise. He didn’t dare plan any further ahead.

Rick responded and wrapped his arms around the archer, pulling him close as far as his injuries allowed, but the pain wasn’t as severe anymore as it had been only a moment ago. Daryl had always been his remedy, the one thing that had made him feel better even in the darkest hours. How could he forget? How had he been able to survive for months without this man by his side?

When the need for air finally broke them apart, Daryl pulled back first and sat back on his heels after running his hand one last time through Rick’s short hair.

         “Ya don’t have ta explain anythin’. Know what ya been tryin’ ta do. Which part a’ _‘Be safe’_ didn’t ya understand, man?Just want ya ta know - if ya ever scare the shit outta me again like that, I’m gonna kill ya.” 

Despite himself Rick had to giggle about this typical Daryl remark, but the movement instantly sent a wave of pain through his body and let the smile falter. 

         “You said it was the only way and you were right.”

         “Nah, I’s not. Ya still here and so is the damn bridge.”

Shock clouded Rick’s azure blue eyes and he tried to lift his head to get oriented. Where was he anyway? He was clearly lying on the ground in a patch of soft grass under a shady tree, but he had no recollection of how he had gotten here, how long he’d been unconscious and what happened in the meantime.  
God, if the bridge held, that walker herd was headed straight for Hilltop now and then on to Alexandria. Judith!   
The sound of an explosion in the distance made him jump and he struggled to sit up, but Daryl’s hand on his shoulder pinched him to the ground.

         “Relax. ‘s okay.”

         “What is this?”  
          
         “The _other_ way. Plan B.”

A frown appeared on Rick’s face.

         “There was a plan B?” 

It almost sounded as though he was saying _“Why the hell hasn’t anyone told me before I tried to blow myself up?”_ and on any other day this may have made Daryl smile. But this wasn’t any other day. This was the day his world had almost come to an end.

         “Yeah, there was, ya stubborn bastard.”

When Maggie had yelled for everyone to get up there and try to turn that herd around, Rick had shook his head and made a dismissive gesture. Whether he had really understood the words or just guessed what his people were up to, Daryl couldn’t tell, but the leader’s reaction sent a clear message. _No, don’t._

         “Ya still don’t trust us, Rick. Ya still ain’t listenin’. Ya make lonely decisions ‘n’ think they are best for everyone. Ya mean well, I see that. But there’s always another way ‘n’ sometimes it’s plan B yer people would prefer. Today more than ever. Ya gotta start askin’ ‘em, Rick, gotta start listenin’ or it won’t be the Saviors or Negan that’s drivin’ us apart, but yer Ricktatorship, man. If ya want people ta live together and work for a common future, ya gotta grant ‘em the right ta make decisions ‘bout that future, too.”   
He lowered his eyes and added quietly:  
         “And they don’t accept losin’ ya. – Although yer a pain in the ass at times, Grimes.” 

Again a smile tugged on the corners of Rick’s mouth despite himself.

         “That so?”

         “Yeah. Yer an asshole, jus’ so ya know.”

The smile on Rick’s face widened.

         “You are not the first to tell me that today.” 

         “Whoever the other dude was, looks like him ‘n’ I are kindred minds. Think I’d like him.”

         “No, believe me – you wouldn’t.” 

Rick swallowed quickly when the image of his old friend Shane appeared before his mind’s eye once again and his conflicting emotions confused him for a moment.   
Shane had just been a dream, a hallucination, a trick his subconscious mind had been playing him.   
         _You gotta forget that shit, Rick._  
The leader would have loved to be able to forget what he did to Shane. That he killed the man he had loved like a brother once – still did. Not a day went by that he didn’t think of him, of the mistakes he’s made, of how Shane might still be with them if he hadn’t been so proud and selfish and stubborn. He should have let Lori go instead of fighting for a marriage that had been dead already – he hadn’t really cared for her _that_ way anymore anyway. There’d been a pair of ocean blue eyes in his dreams already back then, but his damn male ego hadn’t allowed giving in.   
          
         _“Yeah, you’re an asshole, Rick Grimes”,_ Rick couldn’t help thinking.

Shane’s death was on him and there was no way to get absolution from a vision. This wasn’t forgiven and forgotten and he only hoped that one day, in another world, he’d be given the chance to ask Shane for forgiveness. But that day was not today, thanks to Daryl, thanks to his family. 

         _The third man changed everything._

Rick looked deep into his man’s eyes and reached out his good hand to give Daryl’s fingers a light squeeze. 

         _“Yes, he did”,_ he thought. 

Maybe imaginary Shane had been referring to the third suspect who shot him back then – and maybe he had meant Daryl. Back then, between Rick and Shane, Daryl had most definitely been the third man who had made the difference, who changed everything, who had turned Rick’s world upside down. And Rick was grateful beyond words for that. 

Another explosion, further away then the other, jolted him out of his thoughts.

         “What are they doing? What’s going on?”

         “They managed ta fight their way to that weapons locker in camp where we got the rest a’ the explosives stacked. And now they are leadin’ ‘em walkers back into the other direction, away from the bridge ‘n’ our homes.”  
He pulled a face.  
         “An’ b’fore ya even gotta ask – nah, I ain’t done tellin’ ‘em ta lead the herd straight to the Sanctuary, although it was tempting.”

         “Then where are they taking them?”

Rick was unable to shake the worry, the doubts, the feeling that he should be out there, leading his people.

         “Dunno”, Daryl shrugged. “They’ll figure it out. Maybe they gonna divide the herd into several smaller ones, maybe they gonna find a way to get rid a’ the big one once ‘n’ for all. Either way, the girls can handle it, Rick. Carol, Maggie ‘n’ Michonne kinda formed a triarchy there and lead the peeps a’ all the communities together right now, plannin’ as they go. They’re a bunch a pitbulls if they wanna, so have a li’l faith already.”  
He pulled in a deep breath.  
         “That plan a’ yers sucked, jus’ so ya know. Why couldn’t ya just let ‘em do what they’re doin’ right now? Ya hadda play the hero again, right? Hadda do the heavy liftin’ all by yerself, as usual, although I told ya years ago that ya ain’t got no reason to. Did ya ever listen to a word I told ya, man?” 

Rick looked down on his hands, of which the right one was bandaged, but he didn’t really see it. He was still trying to digest all the things Daryl had said ever since he woke up, and that had been a lot. Daryl’s been saying more to him today than he had in all of the previous months and for a moment Rick almost wished the silent, mute Daryl back. It wasn’t easy to handle, having the truth told mercilessly to the face.

“You said that I had to let go”, he croaked after a moment. “That I was chasing something that just isn’t meant to be.”

Daryl couldn’t help rolling his eyes.

“Yeah, well, there’s something in between dancin’ ‘round the campfire with every jackass, singin’ Kumbaya, and destroyin’ it all, man. I still say we don’t need ‘em douchebags in the Sanctuary or that giant troll ya got locked up in that cell.”  
He snorted derisively.   
“But yer right – we need the fuckin’ bridge. We all worked our ass off ‘n’ Aaron lost an arm for it and not even ‘em damn walkers could bring it down – might be a sign.”

“That not killing Eugene was one of the good decisions you made?”

“Debatable”, Daryl grumbled. “Nah, might be a sign that yer vision for a future was just given a chance. Alexandria, Hilltop, Oceanside and the Kingdom together – that’s a good thing. I’m gonna give ya a hand with what yer tryin’ ta do, but ya gotta meet me halfway this time.”

“I’ll meet you anywhere you want”, Rick teased, but the joke fell flat.

“Rick!” Apparently this wasn’t the time for jokes. 

“Compromises, I get it”, the leader came around. “Promise.”

“’kay. But I’m tellin’ ya, if any idiot’s gonna stack explosives in the middle of that bridge again, I‘m gonna stomp their ass. Same goes for the dipshit who cut off yer curls, by the way.”

Rick couldn’t help grinning about that remark. The haircut was an accident – he never wanted it this short, especially since he knew that Daryl was a sucker for his curls.    
They’d grow back, but the poor person who had cut them would never hear the end of it, which is why the leader had kept the name a secret. He knew that Daryl’s wrath could be merciless if the offense was grave enough, and cutting Rick’s hair – or his own for that matter – apparently called for a death sentence. 

The leader thought it best to ignore that topic and reached out his hand to give Daryl’s knee a gentle pat.

         “I’m glad you agree with me now that we need the other communities.”

         “Never disagreed on that. Jus’ sayin’ we can do without ‘em assholes in the Sanctuary, but the others are definitely welcome.”   
“ ‘specially since we’re losin’ the tomato crops in Alexandria ‘n’ urgently need the Hilltop’s tomatoes”, he added after a moment’s thought. “Hope ya ain’t expectin’ me ta eat ma spaghetti without tomato sauce.” 

Rick chuckled again despite the pain.

“No. The show would only be half as good.” 

The smile slowly vanished again when his eyes wandered off and looked into the distance. The little wheels were turning again, planning, picturing a future Carl would have liked.   
There would be compromises, yes, but his son would probably have agreed on that, too. He had respected and loved Daryl, would have listened to him and his opinion. Something Rick had not for way too long. It was shameful that people looked up to him and followed his lead, while a teenager apparently had more wisdom than he had.   
This was what they called ‘following the blind man and letting the fool write the golden rule’. But not anymore.

         “Yeah, that’s what we need”, he muttered to himself rather than Daryl, still lost in thoughts about a future everyone could be happy with.

         “Know that I need you”, Daryl slipped, blushing the same second about the sappy comment.

Where did that come from? Had he really just said that?

Rick cast him a surprised look, accompanied by a loving smile. 

         “Do you now?”

“A little”, Daryl teased, trying to play the awkward situation down. “I’ve jus’ gotten kinda used ta yer ugly mug, ‘s all. Could always get a dog …”

Rick broke out laughing and winced the same moment when a sharp pain ripped through his side.

         “Stop making him laugh”, a male voice behind him had Rick crane his neck and try to see who else was there.  
         “You’re gonna make those fresh stitches open up again.”

         “Ain’t _makin_ ’ him laugh – he just does. Prob’ly that damn laughin’ gas ya done givin’ him, man.”

         “I haven’t …” the man started to defend himself, but was cut short by Rick’s surprised “Siddiq? – What are you doing here?” 

Daryl and the young Arab exchanged a quick glance and the expression on their faces spoke volumes. Here was a man who’d been run through by an iron bar and bled half to death, and he had a bolt stuck in his hand on top of it. – Yeah, what would a doctor be doing here?   
Barely noticeable Daryl shook his head in a “just leave it” gesture and turned back to his partner to answer the question nevertheless. The blood loss, that was probably it. 

         “I radioed Alexandria ta send him over asap. Kinda figured ya could use a band-aid or two”. He just couldn’t let the silly question rest entirely. “Don’t tell her, but I don’t trust Enid no more. She’s got the unnervin’ habit ta cut pieces off of people lately. 

         _“And I kinda like every inch of ya”,_ he added mentally, but this time didn’t say it out loud. 

With a nod Siddiq knelt down by Rick’s side and checked the bandage around the leader’s middle. 

         “Looks okay”, he commented. “There’s no fresh blood, so I guess the stitches held.”

Daryl acknowledged the information with a satisfied nod, before he cast Rick a quick side glance.

         “Next time get yer own kind a’ injury, copy cat. Ya do realize that ya was run through in the same spot as I was by ma own bolt back at the farm, don’t ya?”

Rick pulled a face.

         “Sorry, how thoughtless of me. I’ll keep that in mind next time, okay? So no getting run through by any kind of shit in the left side, no getting shot in the right shoulder and no getting stabbed in the back. That it?”

         “Yup, that oughta cover it.”

Siddiq watched the exchange with wide eyes, shaking his head to himself.

         “What the heck have you guys been doing these past years?” 

         “Ain’t our fault”, Daryl said in their defense. “We jus’ seem ta be magnetic ta all kinds a’ trouble. – Found the herbs, man?”

The doctor patted the big side pocket of his jacket with a happy smile and nodded. 

         “I’m gonna make that tea right away. It should help your bodies to compensate for the lost blood a lot faster. – Be right back.”

He got up and walked over to where he had started a small campfire even before he had left and only now Rick noticed the pot with boiling water that was sitting on it.  
          
         “Afternoon tea, get that, man”, Daryl commented dryly, squirming when he became aware of Rick’s intense look.

         “Bodies? Plural?”

         “Ain’t never had no fuckin’ tea in all ma life”, the archer continued, clearly ignoring Rick’s comment. “This look like Buckingham Palace to ya?”

         “ _Bodies,_ Daryl?”

“’s prob’ly gonna taste like shit …”

“Daryl!”

“Whadda ya want from me, man? Ya lost too much blood, so I gave ya some a’ mine, no big deal. We got the same blood type. I know ever since Carl was shot back at the farm.”   
He lowered his eyes and took great interest in the tip of his shoes.  
         “I woulda helped back then, ya know, but I didn’t think the blood of a Dixon woulda been appreciated in yer boy’s body.”

         “What are you talking about?”  
Rick reached out his hand and put it beneath Daryl’s chin to make him look up.  
         “It would have been an honor.”

         “Not the way Lori woulda seen it. Or Shane. But ya was reachin’ yer limit back then ‘n’ I saw it. Just want ya ta know that I woulda offered, if Carl had needed another transfusion. Wouldn’t have let the boy die or allow ya ta harm yerself. Not back then – and sure as hell not today.”  
His eyes became shiny suddenly and he lowered them quickly once again.  
         “I failed Carl. Wasn’t there ta protect him, but I ain’t gonna fail ya, too. Never.”

Rick got a hold of the front of his partner’s shirt and pulled him down to tenderly touch his lips to Daryl’s. For a split second the older man hesitated, well aware of Siddiq probably watching them from where he was preparing the tea, but Daryl dismissed that thought almost instantly and deepened the kiss hungrily.   
Neither he nor Rick had any idea if Siddiq was even informed that they were a couple and they couldn’t have cared less. In the months since he joined their community the Arab couldn’t have seen them together this way and now he might have been close to dropping his damn tea pot in surprise or shock or whatever. But when their tongues met and started their sensual dance around each other and their hands began roaming over the other man’s body, Siddiq ceased to exist in their world, as did everyone and everything else during these few precious moments they shared in intimate togetherness. 

         “I’ve missed you”, Rick breathed in Daryl’s mouth and pecked the archer’s lips once more.

         “Missed ya, too.”

         “I know. Deep down inside I’ve known all this time that nothing has changed between us, despite the fights and arguments we had. You’ve always been the most loyal soul I’ve ever met, but that doesn’t mean that you have to bleed for me. Don’t want you to.”

Daryl pulled back and gave Rick a long, meaningful look.

         “Said I’d _die_ for ya ‘n’ meant it, too. A li’l blood’s peanuts, man.”

         “Let’s just call it even”, Siddiq tossed in from the campfire and a second later found himself at the receiving end of two scowls for interrupting and eavesdropping. 

         “How’s that?” Rick demanded an explanation.

         “Well, he shot you after all, so donating a little blood is the least …”

As though that fact only now really registered, Rick’s head whipped around as he stared at his right hand with wide eyes.

         “You shot me!” He pulled a face. “I can’t believe this damn hand is hurt _again._ This is … what? … the third time? The fourth?”

He had lost count.

         “That’s on you, man. Ya left me no choice.”

         “You shot me”, Rick repeated, still flabbergasted.

          “Yeah, sue me. There’s still the weirdest assholes running about out there – maybe ya lucky 'n' find a lawyer among 'em.”

         “Doubt that”, the leader commented dryly. “They were probably eaten first by the walkers.”

         “Nah, even walkers don’t eat _anything.”_

They held each other’s look for an incredibly long moment, but when Siddiq started giggling they simultaneously broke out laughing. Rick flinched once more and Daryl instantly placed his hand gently and soothingly on top of his lover’s belly.   
He leaned in and when the tip of their noses almost touched he whispered, so that Siddiq couldn’t hear him:

         “Looks like there's somethin’ I gotta make up to ya, huh?”

A smirk played around Rick’s lips.

         “Yup, guess you do.”

         “I’m sure ya gonna think a’ somethin’ I can do for ya.”

         “You bet.”

         “Uh-huh, I’s hopin’ ya was gonna say that. I’m gonna make it worth yer while.”

         “Yeah? In that case you can shoot me as often as you like.”

A wide grin spread over Daryl’s face.

         “Don’t tempt me.”

 

He fell quiet when Siddiq approached with two steaming mugs of tea in his hands and then held out one to each of them.           

         “Drink it while it’s hot”, he said with a friendly smile while he knelt down next to Rick and extended his palm to him, a small white pill sitting on it.   
         “Here. Against the pain.”

         “What is it?”

         “Just an Aspirin. We’re almost out of medication and will have to look for alternatives soon. But for now, this should help.”

With a grateful nod Rick accepted the pill and washed it down with a swig from the mug he was holding. He burned his mouth in the process, but compared to the pain in his stomach that was not even worth mentioning. 

         “Thanks.”

With a heavy sigh he let himself sink back onto the soft grass and breathed in deep.   
This sure was one of those days when he couldn’t even tell if it was a good or bad one.  
Having been run through by an iron rod, barely escaping a huge herd of walkers and being shot by the man he loved – that didn’t quite meet his definition of a perfect day and lots of fun. And still … despite the pain he felt _good,_ at ease, yes, happy even. 

Rick couldn’t help frowning for a second. What the heck kind of pill did Siddiq give him? 

         “Ambulance is gonna be here soon”, Daryl’s voice, clearly peppered with a tinge of amusement, reached Rick’s ear and had him focus on his partner again.

         “What? Ambulance?”

         “Uh-huh. One a’ the mule carts, but these days I guess ya can’t be picky. Gotta get ya home somehow ‘n’ I ain’t gonna carry ya, man. Despite ya bein’ ma brother ‘n’ all, ya sure as shit are heavy.”

Rick pulled a face about the bad pun and the poor reference to one of his favorite songs, but he was too tired now to even react anymore.  
Daryl watched the azure blue eyes droop and lose their clarity and the look in them turn unfocused and dazed. 

         “The hell ya done givin’ him?” he snapped at Siddiq. “That ain’t no Aspirin, man.”

         “No, it’s something a bit stronger than Aspirin. He needs to rest and give his body the chance to recover, but although I haven’t known him for too long, I can tell that taking a break and letting someone else take the helm isn’t exactly one of his stronger character traits. He wouldn’t have swallowed that pill if I had told him what it was, right?”

         “Guess not”, Daryl grumbled.

For a moment he felt torn between anger and amusement about the way the young doctor had taken measures into his own hands. Then a smile tugged on his lips for just a split second.   
Denise would have done the same. Denise. He was still thinking about her a lot, still missed her, although he had never been able to put his finger on what exactly had drawn him to the chubby young woman.   
Maybe it had been the fact that _she_ had been drawn to _him_. Not too many people ever had and she had been one of the few people in Alexandria who had given him a chance at all, had seen more in him than just an unkempt redneck.   
She had been able to see his true colors beneath the grumpy exterior and had trusted and liked him. Maybe because he reminded her of her brother, but Daryl liked to think that she had cared for _him_ personally and hadn’t just seen another Dennis in him. She sure had been something else and, yes, she would have tricked Rick into taking that pill, too. Maybe Siddiq was worth being given the benefit of a doubt. 

Daryl gave a curt nod into the doctor’s direction before turning to his man again.

         “Rick”, he said gently while he placed his hand flat on his partner’s chest to ease him. “’s okay, man, jus’ go ta sleep for a while. Ain’t gonna let anything happen to ya.” 

         “But”, the leader tried to protest, struggling to stay awake and gesturing into the direction where yet another explosion could be heard in right that moment. It must have been a couple of miles away now.  
         “But … I gotta … “

         “Ya gotta sleep, ‘s all ya gotta do right now. Ain’t nothin’ else yer able ta do anyhow ‘n’ I told ya, ‘em girls got everythin' under control. So relax. That future a’ yers is still gonna be there, waitin’ ta be built, when ya wake up.” 

         _Wake up_

When the words registered, Rick held his breath in shock, waiting for Daryl’s face to melt into the ugly mug of a walker and dreading to find himself still up there by the bridge, gun in hand and ready to set off those explosives. But nothing happened. 

The face in front of him stayed as handsome as ever and the deep blue of Daryl’s eyes didn’t fade into the dead, blind orbs of a walker. If this was just a dream, it was a good one. One where Daryl was back by his side, where their love was given a second chance and they made plans to build a new world, together.

With a relieved sigh Rick let go and closed his eyes, willing to give in and just sleep for a while. Daryl was here. There was nothing to fear. And his family was out there somewhere, fighting side by side with people of all communities. Fighting for the bridge, for each other, for a future together. There was nothing to worry about.  

Daryl watched Rick’s eyes fall shut, felt the lean body beneath his palm relax and the breathing ease and become slow and deep. Rick was dozing off. 

Just when sleep was about to claim him, the leader felt his partner’s breath against his ear like a caress and heard him whisper:

          “Luv ya.” 

A warm feeling spread through his entire body and took the pain away. Daryl had never said these words to him before – he didn’t have to - but despite having known in all this time how the archer felt for him, nothing compared to actually hearing those three precious words. Two. Dixon style, but still they meant the world. 

Maybe this was just a dream. Maybe he would wake up any moment now and Daryl wouldn’t be by his side, but back down on the river bank, shooting bolt after bolt in the desperate attempt to save him – and to stop him from blowing up the bridge and himself.   
Well, he wouldn’t. He knew _the other way_ now, would make sure to trust Maggie’s plan and his family to carry it out. He would fight to get away from those walkers, would do everything to stay alive, so he could return to his man and get a chance to maybe, just maybe hear Daryl say those precious words to him again. 

Everything was possible as long as they were still alive together. The future Rick had been dreaming about wasn’t lost. He and Daryl, they were already headed for it.   
They were still here.      

**Author's Note:**

> I doubt that I'll ever write another Rickyl story or watch another episode, so I'd like to thank all of you wonderful peeps out there who have taken the time over the years to read my stuff and leave me kudos and comments.  
> You have no idea how much that meant and how often you've made my day.  
> Hugs.


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